White fog swaddled the trees along the ferry road this
morning and swirled like visible wind about the car. The highway was clear of it, banal as always,
but the hill to campus lay before me like a baby’s blanket. In front of the student center, a clear sky
held the sparkle of early morning stars, though the fog accompanied me again on
the way to class among the trees. Later,
walking out of the ad building, the beauty of white and red pansies gleaming
through the shroud that still enveloped and softened the buildings stopped me
for a moment of praise.
"As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame; / [ . . . ] Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: / Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; / Selves -- goes itself; 'myself' it speaks and spells, / Crying 'What I do is me; for that I came'." --Gerard Manley Hopkins
30 September 2014
18 September 2014
Beauty, beauty, beauty . . .
The last few days: clouds and dark fog, clouds and mist, clouds and rain -- mirrors to my sad-weary heart. But this morning: a crescent moon shining joy into the early-morning, still-night sky, lifting the weight from my soul and making another day seem possible. Thankfulness for beauty and eyes to see.
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